The Way We Were
by Blue Stone Shining Wolf
Summary: Rose wakes up in a strange flat in modern-day London with no memory of how she got there. Will she be able to put the pieces back together? And how can she reconcile two very different dreams of what life should be? AU story my way (see profile). Explores deeper relationships than canon therefore Rated T for romantic interaction. Contains angst because stories need conflict.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Doctor Who and all characters are property of the BBC. I do not own them nor make any money from them. I only spin stories for my own amusement and the entertainment of others. Any original characters are mine.

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**Author's Notes:** This story contains romance, but it is not fluff. And while it is not a Shakespearean tragedy, neither is it a Disney fairy tale. It is a rather emotional journey with laughter, tears, and a lot of questions with complicated answers. When it comes to characters and endings, I am not Moffat or Whedon or George R. R. Martin. But I am not Jane Austen either. Take from that what you will.

The title, "The Way We Were," is based on the song with the same title. It is a beautiful song performed by Barbara Streisand and I recommend you look up the lyrics or listen to it on YouTube to understand my inspiration for the "misty water colored memories of the way we were." Many of the lyrics will loosely reflect Rose's internal struggle.

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**The Way We Were**

**Chapter 1**

Rose Tyler woke up from a peaceful dream and felt as if she had entered another dream in which things were both familiar and strange. She sat up and looked around. The room she was in looked like her mother's room in the one-storey flat Rose grew up in. The carpet and door looked the same and the widow was in the same place, but nothing else was the same. Jackie Tyler's bedroom was painted pink, her bed had a padded pink headboard and a pastel duvet, and she had a vanity covered in hair accessories and make-up. Even with the faint illumination caused by a nightlight in the corner of the room, Rose could tell that the walls in this room were a deep blue hue and that the simple curtains on the window matched the walls. The bed sat in the same place that Jackie's bed had been, but appeared to be the modern type that one bought at a large Scandinavian furniture store then assembled at home. It had a simple black rectangular headboard with a duvet that matched the wall and curtains. The furniture in the room consisted of a black dresser and wardrobe that both matched the style of the bed. In the corner was a black chair that likely came from the same page in the furniture store catalog. Over the top of the chair were a man's dressing gown and a woman's dressing gown.

"Mum?" Rose called out. "Mum, are you there?" No one answered.

As she woke up more fully, Rose tried to make sense of her surroundings. Rose looked at the dark décor and the pair of dressing gowns. Perhaps it had been a longer time than she thought since she had last visited and things had changed in her mother's life. Maybe a man had come to live with her mum and they had redecorated.

Rose crossed the hall to use the loo and saw evidence that a couple shared it. One side of the sink was neat with a razor (the good kind with replaceable blades, not the disposable plastic kind), a comb, and a tin of dental floss set perfectly side by side as if they were the utensils of a table setting. On the same side of the sink near the handles sat a tin of shaving cream. On the other side the only things that were neat were the dark blue soap dispenser and the dark blue cup containing two toothbrushes. One toothbrush was blue and in perfect shape; the other was bright pink and appeared to have been gnawed on by a beaver. Rose smiled at this. Her mother had similar brushing habits as she did. On the counter, the toothpaste was missing a top and had been squeezed in the middle, causing a pool of mint gel to form on the counter's shiny white surface. Various combs and brushes littered the countertop, along with make-up, lotion, and mouthwash. Since she didn't have a toothbrush, Rose gargled with the mouthwash. She noticed the hairbrush that she had taken traveling sitting with the other items on the counter. She used it to smooth out her blond hair.

Rose walked back into the master bedroom and sat at the end of the bed. The feeling of being disoriented was making her dizzy, so she laid back. Someone had placed glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, and it surprised her that they were actually in the form of constellations. Rose closed her eyes. She remembered an article she had read which said that one could determine if something was a dream by looking at a detail, looking away, and then looking back at it again. It said that in dreams, minor details (such as the constellation pattern on the ceiling) would usually change. She opened her eyes to find that the constellations remained unchanged. Though the stars were not her mother's style (Rose liked them, of course), she was not dreaming. Rose wondered if her mother was dating an astronomer or some other space enthusiast.

Rose stood to her feet. She was not bothered that her mother had met someone, but she was confused as to why she woke up in their room when she had her own room in the same flat. After a bit of thinking, Rose determined that she must have been lying in bed with her mum talking and laughing like the old days and had fallen asleep there. Her mum's boyfriend likely thought the gentlemanly thing to do was kip down on the sofa for the night. Her mum had probably gone and slept in Rose's room. Rose was about to leave the master bedroom and validate her theory when she looked down and saw that her nightdress was rather sheer. If there was a strange bloke in the living room, she wanted to be more covered up. She grabbed her mother's dressing gown and tied it tight around herself.

When Rose entered the living room, she noticed that the redecorating had spread to the living room. There were a few items Rose remembered, such as the soft chair she used to snuggle in to read and some random knick knacks, but the rest must've come from the same store as the bedroom furniture. At least her mum had a nicer television now. The one Rose was looking at looked brand new and huge. Her mother's new man must have made good money. But whoever he was, he was not in the room.

Still not convinced she was awake, Rose tried her dream test on the clock on the wall. One hand was on the number two and the other was on the five. The second hand had almost reached the top. She closed her eyes. When she opened them, everything but the second hand was the same. It was pointing at the twelve and continuing to circle around again. Though Rose was never up this early, she was now convinced it was not a dream, and she was concerned that nobody was there at that hour.

Rose walked into the room that should have been hers, just to see if anyone was about. When she did, her heart sank. Rose had always had a place to stay at her mother's flat. Even when her mother had thought her to be missing for a year, Rose's bedroom had not been changed. Now none of her furniture remained. There was no bed or vanity, just a simple desk with an equally simple chair. (Her mum's bloke must've spent a lot of money at that furniture store). On the desk sat a high-tech computer and random pieces of electronic gadgetry. The walls had been painted a coral-orange color and the curtains were a sea-foam green. The only thing in the room that she recognized was a box filled with children's books that belonged to her when she was a child and her favorite teddy bear. She had kept the bear on her bed even as a teen, so she was glad to see it had not been thrown out. The room contained other cardboard boxes that she did not open, so she guessed that her other items were inside them.

Rose backed up against the wall, slid to the floor, put her arms around her knees, and began to cry. She knew it wasn't fair to expect her mother to never change anything. After all, she had been busy traveling the stars with the Doctor and their friend, Captain Jack Harkness. Rose had tried to remember to call her mother, but she had only come home once and no longer considered the flat her true home. Still, this change made it feel as if her mother had wanted to erase everything about her. Worse than that, it only now occurred to her that she had no idea how she had even come to be in the flat in the first place. The last thing she remembered she had been in…Rose wasn't even sure _where_ she had been last or what she had done. There was Cardiff and that Slitheen egg they had to return to Raxi-_whatever. _Then there was that planet with the hopping nonsense. There was also that family they met in Southampton in 1912. But there was something else—the reason she was back in London—and she couldn't remember.

After a several minutes Rose got up. She had to find out what was going on. She could use the phone in the flat and call her mother's mobile. And if she could find her own phone, she would call the Doctor. He had to be in the Tardis somewhere nearby.

Just then, Rose heard a familiar high-pitched buzzing sound at the front door. Then the Doctor in his leather jacket came through the door with his sonic screwdriver in his hand and holding what looked like a bag of groceries. And he was humming! (Rose thought it sounded like "Moonlight Serenade.") Rose was beginning to doubt the validity of that dream test, because the scene before her was the most surreal thing she had seen all morning.

"It's you!" Rose said astonished.

"Hello," responded the Doctor cheerfully, waving the hand that held the sonic screwdriver. He pocketed his screwdriver and proceeded to the kitchen where he set down his shopping bag and began to unload the contents. Rose watched astonished as he put all the items away adeptly without asking where a single thing went.

"I bought more bananas," was the only comment he made.

"Where's my mum?" Rose finally asked when the Doctor's very uncharacteristic domestic chore was done.

"In her bed sleeping, I imagine," the Doctor answered nonchalantly, leaning on the kitchen counter. "And please don't tell me you were expecting her, because it is too early in the morning to pretend to be nice."

Rose just stared.

"It was a joke Rose. Your mum picks on me just as much."

Rose frowned. If the Doctor thought her mum was in bed, then that meant no one knew where she was.

The Doctor misinterpreted the look on her face as disapproval. "Rose. I'm sorry," he said. "She's your mother and I should be kinder. Plus it is clearly too early to joke with you." He paused at that last statement and thought a minute. "Why are you up anyway? You normally aren't up before nine unless you're made to be."

This was true. Tardis time was set for human sleep cycles and Rose would usually wander into the control room sometime after what it had set as nine in the morning, often still in pajamas and largely incoherent. One of the luxuries of traveling through time and space was that she didn't have to keep to a schedule. She took the fact that she was up so early as a sign that something was very wrong.

"Doctor, my mum is not home. I just went and looked for her."

"You went upstairs in your dressing gown?" the Doctor asked, surprised.

_Her_ dressing gown? _Upstairs?_ She was clearly missing important information. Rose wasn't even sure how to ask for clarification, so she switched questions. "Why are you even here?"

"It's only half five. I don't leave for work for three more hours."

_Work?_ This did not answer her question at all and only confused her more. In fact, the whole morning had been so strange, that the worry over it had begun to make her feel physically ill.

"I don't feel well," she said.

He looked at her with concern. "Go get more sleep," he said. "Doctor's orders."

The pun made Rose smile despite the situation, but she still wasn't sure where to go. "And I'm to sleep in _there_," she said doubtfully, pointing toward the blue-painted room.

"It _is_ the bedroom," said the Doctor with a shrug. "But I suppose you could sleep on the sofa if you wanted to."

Rose put her face in her hands and rubbed her temples. "I have no idea what's going on," she said, frustrated. She felt like crying again.

"Rose," the Doctor said. His tone had changed to one of alarm. He stepped over to her, took her shoulders gently, and looked into her eyes. "What is the last thing you remember?"

Rose frowned. "I don't know. I was on the floor in that room," she said, turning and pointing to the room with the desk and computer.

"Before that," he said more insistently. "Before you woke up." His blue eyes stared intently into her brown ones as he gripped her shoulders a bit more tightly. It was making Rose nervous. She broke free and began massaging her temples again.

"I don't know," she said. Tears were beginning to form in her eyes. "I remember Raxi, Raxico, Rax—"

"Raxacoricofallapatorius," finished the Doctor.

"Yeah. And then it's fuzzy. I'm not sure of the order after that. And then I woke up in this flat that looks like my mum's. But it must not be hers, because you said she was upstairs." Rose searched the Doctor's eyes as if looking at them would clear everything up.

"It's my fault," the Doctor said sorrowfully, looking down. "I shouldn't have left this morning. Things had been going so well for so long, I just assumed…But then you had to wake up alone and confused. I should have been here."

Rose felt bad for the Doctor. She wanted to assure him that she was not upset and didn't blame him, but she was still unaware what the problem was.

"I—I don't understand," she said.

"Of course you don't," the Doctor said with anger toward himself. Then he softened. He placed a hand on Rose's back and led her to the living room. "Rose, you better sit down."


	2. Chapter 2

**The Way We Were**

**Chapter 2**

Rose never liked the phrase "you better sit down." It always meant bad news; at least it did in her experience. Still, she let the Doctor lead her to the living room, and she sat on the right side of the simple-yet-soft black sofa. The Doctor, however, did not sit down. With quick steps he headed to the bedroom and shut the door. Rose heard a bit of rattling and the hum of his sonic screwdriver before the Doctor emerged again. She felt like telling him off for using that frightening phrase and then just leaving her alone with her thoughts, but she was too tired to do so.

The Doctor sat on the sofa facing Rose at a slight angle. He looked into her eyes and took a breath, but he just shook his head and said nothing. He tried again and was able to say "Rose" but nothing else. The Doctor stood up, paced, and sat again. The whole while, Rose was imagining every worst-case scenario possible. She worried most that they had arrived several years in her future and her mother had died years before. As the Doctor continued his unsuccessful attempt to speak, Rose became more and more convinced that this was the bad news he had to share. Though it did not fully make sense within the conversation in the kitchen, she determined that the Doctor's comments about her mother "sleeping" and being "upstairs" must have been euphemisms for death.

The thought of her mother's demise sat like a stone in the pit of her stomach and grew until she was overcome with nausea. Then without notice, the sickness inside had crept into her throat. Rose darted down the hall and reached the toilet just in time. She let out great sobs as her body heaved and tears streamed down her cheeks. It wasn't until she slumped to the floor that she realized that the Doctor was there. He helped her to her feet, filled a paper cup with water from the tap, and gave it to her. He then exited to the hall without a word and closed the door so she could clean herself up. Rose swished with the water then with the mouthwash she had used earlier. She brushed her hair and tried to regain her composure, but her body was still trembling.

The Doctor was still standing in the hallway when Rose opened the door. She was too embarrassed to say anything, so she walked by him without a word. She sat in the same spot on the couch that she had sat before and waited, anxious and humiliated. The Doctor must have known it was best not mention what had just happened because he simply sat down where he had been, faced her as he had before, and waited for her breathing to steady. Then he took a deep breath and spoke.

"Rose," the Doctor said, "lift up your right hand." The Doctor demonstrated by using the opposite hand as hers. "Place it right here above your ear," he said as he touched his own head.

Rose mirrored the Doctor's movements, and placed the tips of her fingers above and slightly behind her right ear.

"Can you feel a bump?" he asked.

Rose ran her hand over the portion of her head that the Doctor was demonstrating. She felt a hard knot that was about three fingers in width. She nodded to the Doctor.

"You were in an accident," the Doctor said. "We all were—you, me, and Jack. The Tardis was damaged and debris was falling all around us. Jack broke his arm, and I was trapped under rubble. But you got the worst of it—a piece of the Tardis fell from above and hit you on the side of your head. When I finally got free and reached you, you were just lying there. I thought you were…" His voice faltered, and it looked to Rose as if he was reliving the event. "I did what I could for you, but you had lost a lot of blood. I had to get you home and to a hospital. We made it to London just in time. You were barely conscious when we arrived."

Rose ran her fingers over the injury as the Doctor spoke. She noticed that it did not hurt and seemed to be completely healed. How long ago had this happened?

The Doctor continued, his voice filled with regret. "You almost died. I had to call your mum and tell her I hadn't done as she asked. I hadn't kept you safe."

Tears escaped from the corners of Rose's eyes. She could imagine her mother's reaction to the news, and she could feel the guilt the Doctor placed on himself for the accident. But it wasn't his fault. She knew the danger, yet even when she had chances to go home, she chose that life of danger over and over. The Doctor had said it himself: She was jeopardy friendly, and it was unfair for him to take the blame.

"It wasn't your fault," she said choking on her words. She tried to say more, but she was overcome by emotion.

"But it was, Rose. Not just because I took us into that storm, but because I gave you instructions that put you in harm's way." The Doctor clenched his fists as his words erupted in angry staccato bursts. "You trusted me. But the instructions were wrong; I miscalculated. If I had taken just one more minute to think, you wouldn't have been in danger. None of it would have happened."

"But I'm fine now, yeah?" Rose said trying to comfort him. "It's all healed."

"No, Rose, it's not," he told her. "That's just the outside. The real damage is inside. The surgeons saved your life and did what they could to fix you up, but the damage had been done. I did what I could as well, but some things can't be fully fixed, not even by a Time Lord." The Doctor looked into Roses eyes, and Rose thought she saw tears in his. "The damage is permanent."

"But what does that mean?" asked Rose. Her heart seemed to have stopped for a moment at the thought of permanent brain damage.

"You injured a part of your brain called the hippocampus, which controls memory. You have a form of amnesia called anterograde amnesia," he explained. "It means that your memory of events before the accident is fine. But the events of the accident—including the ones shortly before and after it—have been permanently forgotten."

"That's not bad though," Rose said, trying to smile. "It's probably not worth remembering anyway."

The Doctor's face remained serious. "It's more than that. Anterograde amnesia affects everything that you remember after that point. You make the memories but your brain does not store them properly, and you can't retrieve them. Some patients have been better than others at retrieving those memories, but most forget everything they do each day and wake up not remembering anything before their injury."

"I saw a film about that once," said Rose. "It was a comedy." She shook her head "Doesn't sound very funny right now."Rose thought about the film and about her own life. Did she go through the emotional turmoil of disorientation and despair daily? Did the Doctor go through the guilt of causing it every time he told her the story? She frowned. "So is that my life now? Waking up and not remembering anything new ever again?"

The Doctor managed a small smile. "No."

"No? But here I am, and I don't remember anything or know where I am. It feels like a hopeless way to live."

"I know it does right now," said the Doctor, "but it's not like that for you."

"Why?"

"Because you, Rose Tyler, are special. You refuse to accept the limits." The Doctor's smile was more genuine and hopeful now. "At first it was like I said, and you wouldn't remember anything from day to day. But then one day you _complained_!"

"I what?" asked Rose confused.

"You complained about the food," he said with a laugh. "You said it was the same thing you had the day before, then you told the nurses that you wanted something new to watch on the telly because you had seen the film they picked several times. _You remembered!_ And after that, there was no stopping you. Some days were worse than others, but you kept remembering."

"Then why don't I remember anything today?" Rose asked.

The Doctor's face darkened. "I don't know. At first you had good days and bad days. On the bad days you wouldn't remember anything after the accident. On the good days you would remember bits and pieces. Then the good days got longer with more memories, and there were less bad days. Finally you were doing so well that you were able to leave the hospital as long as you had people nearby to look after you. When you left, you were having only one bad day a week and sometimes those would only last till midday."

This was a lot for Rose to ponder, but she was feeling a bit better knowing that days like this were not frequent. "How often are the bad days now?" asked Rose.

"Not very often," answered the Doctor. "We started hoping that maybe the Rewind Days were over."

"Rewind Days?" asked Rose.

"Days like today," said the Doctor. "Days when your mind rewinds and you have to remember everything all over again."

"Makes sense, I guess," said Rose.

The Doctor smiled. "You came up with the word. You said it makes it sound less scary. But there hasn't been one in almost three months. And twice before that, it had been a month between rewind days."

It occurred to Rose that a lot of time must have elapsed since she arrived in London. That was almost five months that the Doctor had just mentioned, and that didn't even include the time in the hospital. The Doctor spoke as if he had been present for all of it. Had he really spent that much time in one place? Was it because of the accident in the Tardis? She wanted to know more, but she was too concerned with the issue of her amnesia to ponder it for long.

"So I only forget for a day?" asked Rose.

"Or less," said the Doctor.

"Okay."

"Okay? That's all?" asked the Doctor, amused.

Rose nodded. She couldn't think of anything else to say. She had a million questions—including ones she didn't have before—and she still didn't know where she was. But at least the reason for not having the answers made sense. She expected the rest of the day would be filled with inquiries and answers, but the combination of waking early and the emotion of the events of the day so far had left her with a feeling of fatigue. All she wanted to do right then was sleep. She only had one question to ask before she did. "So my mum is fine then, yeah?"

"She's fine," the Doctor assured her. Rose smiled. She leaned her head against the edge of the sofa and closed her eyes. She needed to ask whose flat she was in and address all the other questions swimming in her head, but they would have to wait until she woke up.

* * *

"_Rose!" Captain Jack Harkness shouted across the chasm. He could barely be heard over the sound of rumbling earth and flowing lava. "You're going to have to jump! It seems far because of the distance below, but it's just a few feet! Are you ready?"_

"_I think so!" Rose shouted back._

"_Okay, back up to give yourself room for a running start and then go when I say so!"_

_Rose backed up and waited for Jack's signal. The radiating heat of the lava was beginning to sting her eyes, and in mere moments the place would be covered in it. She had very little time to make this jump. _

"_Ready…Go!"_

_Rose ran as fast as she could. When she reached the edge of the cliff, she leapt and prayed she'd make it to the other side of the chasm. As her feet touched ground, Jack grabbed her and pulled her away from the edge._

"_That was a close one," said Jack with a smile, still holding onto her. Rose blushed slightly. It amazed Rose how much charm and charisma he had even when they were running for their lives. Flirting was as natural to Jack Harkness as breathing (and probably just as necessary) but the banter between the two of them was just a game to keep them entertained. It was nothing like the charm he poured on every other living thing in the universe. Rose tended to think of him as the older brother that always looked out for her—that is, if there was a universe in which it was appropriate for a brother to direct suggestive comments toward his sister. Rose admitted it was a messy metaphor, but it was much less complicated than her relationship with the third person in their trio of time travelers._

"_The Doctor thinks he's figured out the interference with the Time Vortex!" shouted Jack as they ran toward the Tardis in the distance. "Something about a reverse temporal rift. I'll let him bore you with the details, but it means flying the Tardis manually. What matters is that we can get out of here. But first we have to get to the Tardis before that whole mountain blows!"_

"_Doin' the best I can!" Rose shouted in response, running a few steps behind him. _

_The Tardis was just a few yards ahead of them when the noise coming from Krakatoa grew louder. Jack and Rose ran inside, shut the door, and laughed in relief._

_After she had time to catch her breath, Rose looked around the console room. "Jack," she said as fear gripped her, "Where's the Doctor?"_

* * *

Rose awoke with a start and sat up. She was on the same sofa she had fallen asleep on earlier. Her hand reached up to touch her head. She still had the scars of her brain injury, but she was glad to see falling asleep had not shaken her Etch A Sketch type memory clean for the day.

Now if she could only stop her heart from racing. That dream had been too real. She would have assumed it was the memory of one of her many journeys, except that she did not remember doing those things. In the dream she knew it was Krakatoa, but when Rose was first investigating the strange man in his blue box, and Clive had showed her the drawing of the Doctor at Krakatoa, there was no one else in the picture. It had never occurred to her that she and Jack could have been there as well and just not made it into the sketch. But why did she only remember it now? Whatever the reason, it was as real—or even more so—than the dream-tested reality she currently found herself in. It was likely just her imagination, but it seemed she could still feel the heat of the lava on her skin and smell residual smoke in her hair. She had experienced enough strange things since she began her journeys with the Doctor to know that she should not ignore anything that seemed amiss, but everything in her life seemed wrong at the moment. Therefore her dream of Krakatoa was quickly pushed to the recesses of her mind.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Way We Were - ****Chapter 3**

The average person would have considered the kitchen that Rose was in to be quiet. But Rose was hyper-aware of every little sound, and the interactions of these sounds seemed to magnify the noise level exponentially. The simple plastic clock on the wall—which read a quarter past nine—marked each passing second with a noticeable tick. The tap dripped at a regular interval that conflicted with the rhythm of the clock. The electric kettle bubbled and spurted, growing louder as it drew closer to being ready. The toaster in the corner buzzed slightly as it toasted the two slices of bread within. The fridge even whirred as it stood there doing nothing, as if that was incredibly difficult work.

But those sounds were not the ones putting Rose on edge. The offending noise was coming from the small drop-down table that was mounted to the wall near the door. On the surface of the plain black table sat an assortment of objects that Rose guessed had been taken from the interior of several different electronic items. The objects themselves would have been silent if they were not in the process of being assembled into some mysterious contraption that twice had made a faint ding. And _that_ would not have bothered Rose if the technician behind the contraption's creation would have been quiet about it. The Doctor would pick a piece up, turn it around, mumble about it, and then either add it to the gadget he was making or drop it to the table with a rattle. In addition, he was using tiny manual screwdrivers that were fitted in a case from smallest to largest. Every time the Doctor would remove a screwdriver, the case would click. The same click occurred when the tools were returned to the case. Occasionally, the Doctor would drop one of the screwdrivers, which would hit the edge of the table and clatter to the floor. The Doctor would then curse under his breath, shove the chair backwards loudly, pick up the tool, sit back down, scoot the chair in loudly, and then sigh as he returned to whatever it was he was doing.

When Rose had entered the kitchen about ten minutes earlier, she had so many questions running through her mind that she was not in the mood to speak. She just wanted a cup of tea and some toast before facing whatever challenges that "Rewind Day" would bring. The only question she asked the Doctor, who had already been tinkering at the table, was if she was free to use the kitchen and the food in it. After he assured her that she could, she decided to find everything herself rather than being forced to speak again. This proved to be a simple task because everything was exactly where she would have put them herself.

Rose had planned to spend her breakfast putting her thoughts in order and determining the best question to ask the Doctor first, but every question made her think of several more, and she became frustrated with the process. She decided instead to enjoy a quiet meal and ignore her thoughts. However, the noise of the inanimate objects in the kitchen combined with the tinkering of the Doctor prevented her from experiencing that peace and quiet.

After the Doctor had dropped one of his tiny screwdrivers for about the fifth time, Rose slammed the teaspoon she holding down on the counter and whirled around to face him. "You have a Sonic Screwdriver!" she snapped at him. "So why are you using _those?" _She waved her hand in the direction of the tool set. After she snapped at him she regretted it—not because she might have hurt his feelings, but because she realized that the sound of the Sonic Screwdriver might be even more irritating than the clatter of dropped tools.

The Doctor jumped a bit at her outburst but did not look upset. "It's a hobby," he said with a shrug.

His response inexplicably made her feel more aggravated, and she realized it wasn't the noise that was really bothering her. For some reason, the Doctor's presence in the room was the most irritating thing of all. "Can't your 'hobby' be done somewhere else?" barked Rose. "There's a half-empty room with more of the same electric stuff all over the desk! Why can't you go there?"

"Would that make you happy?" asked the Doctor with slight irritation in his voice.

"It would be a start," Rose said tersely. "I need a place to sit and eat, don't I?"

The Doctor did not say a word, but he removed everything from the table and put them in a small cardboard box that sat on the floor next to him.

Rose prepared her toast and tea and sat down in the chair opposite the Doctor's. Things were quieter, but Rose was still irritated. The table was not truly big enough for two and the Doctor was taking up space doing nothing. She had asked him to take his project elsewhere, not sit and watch her eat. It was weird with him just sitting there, and she was trying to avoid conversation. To make matters even more irritating, she could hear him breathe.

"Can't you just _stop_?" she barked at him.

"Stop what?" the Doctor asked.

"I dunno…just…being there," she said, "breathing."

"You want me to stop breathing?" the Doctor asked bewildered.

"Yes. No. Of course not," Rose answered. "I just want peace!"

The Doctor shrugged. Then he got up quietly and left the kitchen.

* * *

When Rose was done with her breakfast, she went to locate the Doctor. She found him reading _Great Expectations_ in the chair she recognized as having come from her mother's flat.

"I used to sit and read in that chair all the time," she said as a way of breaking the silence.

The Doctor closed the book and looked at her with an expression Rose could not read.

"I'm sorry," she said. She sat on the sofa at the end nearest him. "I was a bit rude."

"Yes, you were," agreed the Doctor in a matter-of-fact way.

"I don't even know what got me so irritated," she said shaking her head. "It's just been a hard day so far, and I'm not expecting it to get easier." She paused and then cracked a crooked smile. "Ya know what the scariest thing is, though?"

The Doctor shook his head.

"I sounded just like my mum right there," she said with a slight smile and a shake of her head.

The Doctor didn't answer, but his smirk and the raise of his eyebrows confirmed that he agreed.

Rose grinned back at him. It was evident to Rose that coping with her memory loss was going to be a series of ups and downs, therefore it did no good to dwell on the low points. Rose tilted her head to the side and smiled with a bit of her tongue peeking out. "If _I _thought it was scary to sound like Mum, you must have been terrified." She thought of the slap her mother gave the Doctor when he had returned Rose home a year too late.

"Jackie Tyler _is_ a force to be reckoned with," agreed the Doctor.

"She means well though," said Rose thoughtfully. She didn't always agree with her mother, but Rose knew that she always wanted what was best for her. "I should go see her," Rose said. "I haven't seen her in a long time."

"You saw her yesterday, actually" the Doctor said.

"Oh," said Rose. She pondered that for a second before speaking again. "Thing is, it wasn't yesterday for me though, was it? We'd been gone about a year since the last time I'd seen her. And now I learn about this…" she let her sentence trail off as she reached up and felt the bump in her head. Rose struggled to fight the tears that were welling up in her eyes. "I just really need to see her."

"Yes, I think you do," said the Doctor.

"Thank you," said Rose as she attempted a smile. "Anyway, I also thought that maybe if my mum was watching over me—or whatever needs done on days like this—then you can go to work."

The Doctor looked at her surprised. "How did you know—" he said without finishing the thought.

"You said so this morning before you realized it was a Rewind Day," Rose said. "You told me you didn't have to leave for work for three hours. That would have been half eight, and it's now nearing ten. You're late to whatever it is you do." She tried to imagine the Doctor in business clothes taking public transport to an office. Whatever he did, it couldn't be that. Maybe he helped police in search-and-rescue or some such position, but even that seemed strange. The Doctor she remembered would never have been tied down to something as domestic and mundane as a job.

"What is it that you do? And why on Earth do you need a job anyway?" Rose asked him. Rose had a lot of questions running through her mind, and had not planned lead with this one. Still, the Doctor's mention of leaving for work was one of the stranger things that had happened that morning, and it might be nice to have an explanation for it.

"Rose, I can't answer all your questions," said the Doctor with caution in his voice. "I should have mentioned that earlier. It is one of the rules of Rewind Day. I can't just give you the information. You have to remember it."

"Why?" asked Rose. "It will all come back tomorrow anyway, won't it? If it's just one day, why not tell me what I need to know to not feel so lost?"

"I've already told you that much: that you were in an accident and you lost your memory," said the Doctor. "Telling you more than that without any signs of recollection will backfire."

"You can't be sure of that. How could it backfire?" asked Rose, beginning to feel annoyed.

"I can be sure because we have been through this many times," he said. "When you're told everything that has happened since the accident, you shut down or panic most of the day."

Rose shivered as fear began to creep up within her. "What is it that you're hiding that would make me panic like that?"

"See—you're starting to feel that way right now," said the Doctor.

"You're wrong!" cried Rose. "This is because I _don't_ know. I don't know anything! And what little I do know makes no sense. Please just tell me what has happened, and I promise not to freak out."

"Rose," the Doctor said, "there is more to it. The amnesia affects how you recall the things you are told. If we tell you about experiences that you don't actually remember, your brain has no memory to attach the information to, so it files it away as fiction instead. For some reason, this makes the memories difficult for you to retrieve the next day. But on days we follow your memory's lead, things tend to go much more smoothly. That is why it's a rule that we wait for memories to emerge—even small ones—and then fill in missing information."

It felt to Rose as if there was a conspiracy against her. "What do you mean by 'we,' and whose rules am I being forced to endure?" she asked.

"Your mother and I are the ones who help you through days like this. So does Jack when he is around," said the Doctor. He paused and looked Rose in the eyes. "But the rules are your own, Rose. After a Rewind Day, you usually tell us everything we did wrong." The Doctor smiled at this and continued. "A while back, you came up with rules that help things run more smoothly. You know the first one: the only information we are to share without your asking is about the accident and injury. The second is that we can answer your questions, but only with enough information for what you need presently."

If these were her own rules for her wellbeing, she supposed she should not argue. Still, she was angry that the people who cared about her most were the ones keeping her in the dark. The Doctor, her mum, and even her rule-making self had to know she was going to keep asking. So if playing a game of twenty questions was the only way to get any information, that was what she would do. "So what _can _you tell me about your work?" she asked.

"Only that while you were sleeping, I let the people I work with know I was not coming in," said the Doctor. "I'm here for you all day."

"Okay," said Rose. This fit with the rules he had just told her, but she had hoped for more information. She tried again. "What did you tell them?" she asked, not expecting much.

"Rewind Day," said the Doctor. "They know."

Rose thought of the times as a child when she was ill and her mother would stay home to care for her. Jackie worried every time that her employer would react negatively to her absence. How was it, then, that the Doctor was able to skive off work? He couldn't have been employed long, and it wasn't even a relative he was looking after. And why had he told them about her and Rewind Days?

"What job lets you take off work for a friend?" asked Rose.

The Doctor shook his head and Rose knew she wasn't going to get any more answers on the subject. She didn't know _where_ he worked, but she was fairly certain she knew _why_. "You feel responsible for what happened to me," Rose said. "You feel obligated to stay and keep an eye on me, and now you are stuck doing normal domestic things like going to work." She hated the idea that she was a burden on anyone, especially the Doctor. She also worried that her lack of memory meant the end of the life she had grown to love. "Just answer me one thing," she said, again on the verge of tears.

"If I can," said the Doctor.

"Why do I need to be looked after?" she asked. "Am I a danger to myself or something?"

The Doctor got up from the chair, crossed over to the couch, and sat down next to her. When she turned to face him, he took her hands in his. "Rose, you may have a knack for finding danger, but that has nothing to do with your brain function. On normal days you are as fine as you ever were, but because you sometimes wake up with no memory, it is best that someone is there to make that day easier for you."

"But it doesn't have to be you," she said through tears. "You don't owe me anything. My mum can watch over me. I'll be fine, and you can travel like you always have." She hated saying it. The idea that her days of traveling with the Doctor were over felt like a greater loss than her missing memories, but she refused to be responsible for holding him in one place. "Please don't stay here because of me," she said as she wept. "Please."

The Doctor pulled her into a hug and let her cry. "If you only knew…" he said as he held her.

"Then tell me," she pleaded as she pulled back to look at him.

"No." His face was stoic.

Rose hated her rules. "Then tell me this at least," she said, searching his face for clues as to what he was hiding. "'How long has it been?" She looked deep into the Doctor's blue eyes. "How long has it been since the day you brought me to the hospital?"

"Eighteen months," he told her. "Eighteen months, one week, and three days."

Rose gasped. She thought about a conversation they had had long ago when she lamented missing a year of her life because of a miscalculation. He told her that she had skipped a year in Earth's timeline, but to truly miss a year, she would have had to live a year without having a memory of it. Now she _really_ had missed more than a year of her life. Meanwhile, the Doctor had languished in twenty-first century London, counting the days as if he were a prisoner marking time. And it was her fault.

Rose must have had said something similar to those thoughts on a different Rewind Day, because the Doctor somehow knew what Rose was thinking. He said with eyes fixed on her, "It's not your fault Rose. You didn't trap me here."

So something else was keeping him here. Was the Tardis still being repaired? Would he leave without her when it was ready to fly?

Rose guessed that her fears had also been discussed many times before, because he addressed them though she hadn't said a word. He cupped her face in his hand as he spoke. "Even if I could leave tomorrow, I wouldn't," he said. "A lot can happen in eighteen months." He stared intently at her. "Promise me you will not waste this day feeling guilty or worried about what may come."

Rose's voice wavered as she tried to speak. "I'll try," she promised. The Doctor smiled and hugged her again. It was the first time she felt safe all morning, and breaking away from that security was difficult.

"So off to Mum's then?" she said in an attempt at a cheerful voice after she had let go. It was an abrupt way to end the moment, but Rose didn't think she had the ability to think of a smoother transition.

"If we must," said the Doctor in mock reluctance.

Rose smiled and shoved him playfully, then looked down and realized she was still in her nightdress and dressing gown. "I think I have one more question though," she said.

"What's that?" the Doctor asked.

"Do I have clothes here?"

The Doctor chuckled. "Yes," he said. "Drawers full—plus everything in the wardrobe."

"But you're not going to tell me why, are you?" asked Rose.

The Doctor furrowed his brow and squinted while he rubbed the temple on the right side of his face. Then he let out a defeated sigh. "It's your room," he said, sounding like a suspect during a confession. "You live here. This is your flat. You live two storeys below your mother who lives in the same flat she always has. You've lived here for months."

Rose's eyes grew wide. She thought about the things she had seen: her toothbrush, her childhood teddy bear, and her favorite chair. It made sense. But other things did not: the furniture she never would have chosen, the men's dressing gown, the items by the sink, and the desk full of electronics. She had to ask for clarification for the things that seemed out of place, or at least find out why she wasn't staying with her mum.

As Rose opened her mouth to speak, the Doctor stopped her. "Don't ask anything else," he said firmly. Rose was reminded of the day they faced the Reapers. "Don't touch the baby," he had said as she almost touched her infant self. The tone and force of the warning was identical. Was he equating the breaking of Rewind Day rules to a paradox?

"But—" she tried.

The Doctor's face softened. "Rose, I know the questions you want to ask, because you've asked them all before," he said. "You are already going to be angry at me tomorrow for what I have told you, but saying anything else could be disastrous."

So he _was_ taking this as seriously as a paradox!

"And don't try to determine anything through your own logic," he said. "You usually end up distraught for no reason."

Rose managed to say, "Okay," but she couldn't help the thoughts that went through her head. It could have been her decision to paint her bedroom walls the color of the Tardis and put the constellations on the ceiling, but it could easily have been the decision that a reluctantly domestic Doctor would have made. It was possible that the Doctor still resided in the Tardis and just came every morning to check on her, but if that was so, why did he have personal items inside the flat? It was possible that they were flatmates—which wouldn't have been much different than living on the Tardis—but if it were that simple why didn't he just tell her so? And if they were flatmates, why was one bedroom being used as an office? Rose couldn't let her thoughts go down the path they were about to, so she shook her head to break her train of thought. When she did, she became aware that the Doctor's gaze was still fixed on her. She felt her face flush and her heartbeat speed up. She took a deep breath to regain composure.

"Well, I should r-really get ch-changed then," she said, but she asked for one more piece of information before leaving. "What month is it?"

"October," he said.

"October," she repeated with a slow nod. Her head felt light as she stood, and the short walk from the sofa to the bedroom—_her_ bedroom—made her feel dizzy.

Rose closed the door and attempted to block out the thoughts that were distracting her. She knew she might also be blocking memories, but if they were going in the same direction as her overactive imagination, she was not ready. For now she needed her life and her relationship to the Doctor to stay as close to what she had last remembered as possible. She thanked her full-functioning-memory self for the rules she had previously cursed.

Rose quickly and easily located an outfit suitable for October in London, then crossed the hall to the bathroom.

Rose disrobed and stepped into the shower. The rhythm of the water on her back relaxed her and drove all the thoughts and the stress of the morning from her mind.

* * *

"_The Doctor was here when I left to find you!" Jack said, pacing rapidly. "Where else could he have gone?"_

_Rose looked over at the monitor on the console, hoping to find a sticky note or other message that the Doctor might have left to tell them about his whereabouts. As she searched, her eyes fell on two charcoal sketches that were propped up against the time rotor. The first was a picture of the Doctor, Captain Jack, and Rose with the beach in the background. Another showed the island with two silhouetted figures standing hand in hand as the man pointed to the mountain in the distance. (The Doctor and Rose had not been aware that they were being sketched at the time.)_

"_Henri," said Rose with a shaky voice. "He went to go rescue Henri! That's on the other side of the island." _

_Jack's eyes grew large. "He'll never make it back here on time!"_

"_Then, we have to find a way to get the Tardis to him," Rose said._

"_Don't look at me," Jack said, panicked. "I can't fly this thing!"_

"_You had a spaceship and were a Time Agent," Rose said "That has to count for something." She looked him in the eyes. "Please, Jack, we have to try!"_

_Jack ran a hand through his hair. "Ok. I helped him fix parts of the control panel. Maybe if I am flying it manually…" Jack walked over to the console and stared at it._

"_He always pushes that button," Rose said, pointing to a green one near Jack's right hand._

"_But that could take us into the Time Vortex—which right now is a dangerous place to be," said Jack. "We could be flung back to the creation of the earth or out to the Rings of Ahkaten thousands of years in the future…Course if you go during the right century it has quite a swinging night life. There's this one club that literally costs you the shirt off your back. And if you want to get into the VIP room you have to give up—"_

"_Jack!" Rose said, interrupting his sidetrack._

"_Right," said Jack as he regained focus. "Here goes nothing."_

_Jack pushed the button, but the Tardis did nothing. He pushed it again then flipped a lever nearby. When he did, a bluish light that reminded Rose of the Gelth floated between the two of them. As it came into focus, Rose could see it was a hologram of the Doctor._

"_This is Emergency Program Seven," said the hologram. "Rose, i__f this message is activated, it means you are in danger but I am not on board."_

"_Rose," Jack said to himself, shaking his head. "Of course it's addressed to Rose."_

_The hologram Doctor continued. "However it also means that I am nearby and there is still a chance that the Tardis can get to me, so it is important that you not panic and listen. You need to turn the dial to the left of the monitor three turns anti-clockwise. This will activate a beacon that will lock unto my biological signature and fly the Tardis to my location."_

_Rose nodded instinctively upon hearing the instructions and moved to locate the dial._

"_I need you warn you, though," said the hologram, "there is no promise. There are any number of reasons that the Tardis might not get to me in time. If that happens, Rose, the Tardis will get you to safety. I promised I would keep you safe, and I will. But for now, let's keep running." The hologram of the Doctor smiled tenderly in Rose's direction before it started fading._

"_Ok," said Jack. "Let's go rescue the Doctor." _

_As if prompted by Jack's voice, the hologram popped back into focus. "Emergency Program Seven—Addendum," said the hologram Doctor. "Jack, I am sure you've already complained about the previous message. It was recorded before you came on board, but I haven't forgotten about you. Help Rose and stay safe. And, Jack—thanks." The hologram of the Doctor flashed an ear to ear grin, then disappeared._

_Jack and Rose watched for a split second longer then turned the dial. The Tardis came to life and began to shudder._

"_I hope this works," said Rose, holding on tight to the shaking console._

"_Me too," said Jack, "Because I need to talk to the doctor about his Emergency Program messages."_

* * *

Rose shrieked. The water of the shower had turned icy. She shivered as she turned water off and grabbed a towel. She must have been standing under the water a long time, but it felt as if she had been somewhere else. The vision seemed like flashback, but—just as before—she had no memory of the events. Rose hoped it was just her memories coming back, but something about it filled her with a sense of foreboding. She needed to talk to the Doctor right away.

**Author's Notes: Yes, there is a reference to _Calendar Girl_ in there. All my stories happen in the same personal universe. **


	4. Chapter 4

**The Way We Were - ****Chapter 4**

The sensation of vertigo was becoming quite a frequent occurrence for Rose. She sat on the edge of the bed that was apparently hers, closed her eyes, and waited for the room to stop spinning. Something was very wrong, and it went beyond the anterograde amnesia the Doctor had told her about. He had told her not to try and figure it out on her own, but she couldn't help it. She could tell he was keeping something important from her, and she was terrified.

She suspected her brain injuries were far more severe than he was letting on. She had blamed her dizziness on being disoriented, and even on being flustered and embarrassed by the thoughts that had run through her head in the Doctor's presence, but what if it was something far more serious? Rose's mind took her back to when she was sixteen years old and she had experienced several days in a row of severe migraines. Her head had pounded, her stomach had hurt, and she had been lightheaded. Not knowing the cause, she had read article after article on the computer searching for an explanation. Rose had eventually determined that her tumultuous relationship with Jimmy Stone was the cause of her maladies, but now the articles with their descriptions of severe brain injuries and tumors came back to haunt her. What if her injuries went beyond memory loss? She had been rather volatile and confused earlier, and she had read that certain injuries could change personality while others could cause a degeneration of brain function. Rose understood now why the Doctor had asked her not to try to suss anything out on her own: she was scared to death. Rose sat crying on the edge of her bed until sickness sent her running back across the hall.

"I'm dying, aren't I?" she asked the Doctor after she had freshened herself up, put on make-up, and went to find him in the living room.

"What?" asked the Doctor. "No! Quite the opposite, actually."

"What's the opposite of dying?" asked Rose shaking her head and frowning in confusion.

The Doctor's grin went from ear to ear. "Living. But not _just_ living," he said, "thriving! Rose, your life now, after everything—after what could have happened—it's just..." He stopped and gazed at her as his smile transformed into something more tender. "It's fantastic. Absolutely fantastic."

Rose's heart pounded in her chest as she studied the Doctor's face. His eyes were wide and just on the verge of tears, and there was a look of adoration and awe that she had never seen before. It was as if she were some great work of art or the embodiment of a miracle. She wanted so much to abandon all misgivings and be swept up in the emotion of the moment, but fear overtook her.

"But how is this thriving?" she asked. She didn't know if the tears that began to fall were the result of seeing the Doctor's tear-filled eyes, or if the uncertainty of her condition had overwhelmed her. "I have days like today when I can't remember anything. I am living in a flat in the same estate I've been at my whole life rather than seeing the universe with you. And my head...My head..." Rose's sobs got in the way of her ability to speak, and she found herself once again embraced by the Doctor. How many times did he have to do this—comforting a scared and confused Rose on Rewind Day? Did he resent it? Did part of him secretly enjoy the excuse to hold her in his arms? And why did her thoughts keep drifting in that direction? Sure there were times she had wondered and wished... But he was the Doctor and it wasn't like that. She wriggled free of his embrace, and tried to focus on what she needed to tell him.

"You said you'd answer my questions with whatever information I truly need to know," she said with stubborn determination. "So I need you to be honest with me and stop with the partial answers. I keep crying and I seem to be suffering from vertigo. You know this and it doesn't seem to surprise you."

Rose waited for a reaction, but the Doctor stood like a statue with his arms at his side and his face void of almost any discernible expression.

"And I'm sure you've practiced that face till you mastered it," she said. "But I don't care that it was me who told you not to tell me anything else. It is me _now_ telling you to be completely honest!" Rose fixed her eyes on the Doctor with firm resolve. "Is there _anything_ you are not telling me about my injury? Did it affect other areas of my brain? Am I slowly deteriorating or something?"

The Doctor took a deep breath and shifted from one foot to the other. "Rose, I can't..." He took another deep breath, looked directly at her, and shook his head slowly. "No, Rose, you are not dying. Every scan shows your condition to be stable-to-improving. Other than days like this, you really are so much more than fine. You have to believe me."

"Then tell me this. Doctor," she said, still determined. "If my head is fine other than the amnesia, what's wrong with me? Is this just the trauma from waking up with no memory?"

"Sort of," said the Doctor.

"Not, good enough," said Rose as she crossed her arms. "You're going to answer me. You say my brain is stable—okay. But the rest: is that a result of the accident?"

"In a manner of speaking," said the Doctor.

"You're still not telling me something," said Rose.

"You're right, and I'm not going to," he said matter-of-factly. "Now can we please move on?"

"Fine," said Rose grudgingly.

"Good," said the Doctor. Then he abruptly changed to a more cheerful tone. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah," Rose said in surrender as her stomach rumbled. She glanced over at the clock. "It's almost noon. Mum can make lunch for us."

"Which is why I already called and told her we were going to be over _after_ lunch," said the Doctor.

"I did survive her cooking growing up, you know," said Rose, rolling her eyes.

"Yes, but I'm sure only just," said the Doctor. "Now wouldn't you prefer something else?"

"Actually, yeah," said Rose, thinking. "I'd like some fish and chips. And at a proper London chippy—not like that place we ate at on Solanami Five—it's been a while since I've had a good basket of chips."

"Actually," he said, "we had fish and chips yesterday."

"Yeah, and I also visited my mum yesterday. Doesn't count if I don't remember," she said.

* * *

"So what types of memories come back first?" Rose asked as she stabbed a chip with her fork. Getting out of the flat had brightened her mood some, and the food helped as well. "Or is that something you can't tell me?"

The Doctor leaned back in his chair and tilted his head upward as he thought. "Sometimes it's things from the hospital. The way the room looked or some small thing that happened," he said. "Usually it's more of a snapshot that just comes to you. You describe some image you see in your mind and we try to figure out when it's from. But other times, things in your environment stimulate a memory."

"So if I keep eating these chips," Rose said, "I might remember another point in the past year-and-a-half that I was in a chippy?"

"Right."

"Then I should be going places or looking at photos to spark my memories," she said.

"It's best when it happens on its own," the Doctor said. "Mind you—your mother has a system with the pictures—it's a bit terrifying. Just don't worry if not too much comes back. By tomorrow everything should return to normal. "

Rose pondered the Doctor's words as she reached for a chip, but her basket was empty. Without thinking, she speared a chip from the Doctor's basket and ate it. As soon as she did, she realized it was a rather strange and forward thing to do, but the Doctor saw her and didn't react at all. She took another one while contemplating this and was instantly horrified by her actions. The Doctor, however, seemed indifferent and actually pushed his basket closer to her.

The Doctor had continued talking, but Rose—lost in thought over the significance of her faux pas and his apparent complacency over it—had missed what he had said. Once again, relationship questions she was not ready to ask flooded her mind. And once again, her need for sanity and order drove them away. Rose did wonder, though, if automatic actions she never would have done in the past counted as a memory. (Not that it mattered, she was not about to call attention to this particular incident.) Rose instead thought about her dreams of Krakatoa. She remembered all her journeys prior to her accident, but not that one. For some unknown reason, she was reluctant to mention it. But if this was her first returning memory, it was possible it could unlock all the rest.

"Do I ever remember the accident?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"No," said the Doctor. "Those memories are gone forever. They've never returned."

"So it isn't even possible?" asked Rose. "How are those memories any different than other ones?"

"Because of the trauma to your head," the Doctor said, "the events of that day were never stored in your long-term memory at all. So it's not the same as memories that you can't retrieve on a Rewind Day. In this case, there's nothing there to retrieve."

"Oh," was all Rose was able to say. She took another chip—assuming they were hers now—and frowned. If those were not memories, what were those dreams she had experienced?

The Doctor must have assumed Rose was upset over the things she would never remember, because he reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "You said it earlier, Rose. It's not worth remembering. In fact, it's probably best you don't." The Doctor's eyes were distant and glassy.

"Why?" she asked, almost in a whisper.

"Because there is nothing you can do to change it," he said to her, but Rose felt he was really telling himself. She recognized the self-blame again, but there was something else behind his words: a regret that she did not quite understand. She wanted to ask how it was possible for her to have memories of something that supposedly was never stored in her brain. She wanted to know why these memories she shouldn't have were more vivid than any others from her entire life, but she couldn't ask him. She just sat and watched as the Doctor stared off into the distance, not knowing how to reach him.

At that moment, a mobile phone rang from the Doctor's jacket pocket, causing the Doctor to snap out of his spell.

"Saved by the bell," Rose said under her breath.

"The Doctor speaking," he said as he answered the phone.

Rose ate the last few chips as she listened in on the Doctor's side of the conversation.

"'Bout time you rang back. It's been six and a half hours...I'm not interested in how little sleep you got; you know why I called...No, I don't want to know the details." The Doctor listened for a moment and rolled his eyes. "And yet you insist on telling me anyway…"

"Is that Jack?" Rose asked with a grin.

The Doctor nodded at her.

"She's fine," the Doctor said to Jack as he smiled at Rose. She smiled back and shrugged.

"No, not yet."

Rose guessed that Jack had asked if she had remembered anything. She continued to listen, trying to fill in the blanks.

"No, I haven't; you know the rules...Because I promised…Well, I _do _agree with them...Easy for you to say when you swan off, and I'm left the next day picking up the pieces...I'm _aware_ of that!"

The Doctor almost shouted the last sentence. It made Rose jump, but she had no guess as to why the Doctor had reacted as he did. She could infer, however, that Jack was not fond of the Rewind Day rules.

"Just tell me if you are coming or not…Good…Her mother's flat…No, that's why we ate first…All day, I imagine…In that case, I suppose we'll get take away…No, it's not, but its more healthy than her mum's—"

Rose raised an eyebrow at the Doctor, and he stopped short from finishing his thought.

"Yeah, she heard me...Yeah." The Doctor chuckled. "So when are you leaving...Ok...No—you can talk to her when you get here."

"I want to talk to Jack," Rose said. She tried to grab the phone but the Doctor jerked his head back to evade her.

"I don't care that you heard her," said the Doctor to the phone. "Because you ignore the rules...You know you don't hate me, Jack...See you then." The Doctor pushed the button to end the call and put the phone back in his pocket.

"So Jack will be joining us at my mum's?" Rose asked as they stood up to leave.

"Yes," said the Doctor. "Oh! I should have asked you...Is that okay?"

"Yeah." She looked the Doctor with a teasing grin. "Strength in numbers, is it? So you don't have to face my mum alone?"

"Not entirely," said the Doctor. "Doesn't hurt though."

"And Mum knows Jack?" Rose asked, a bit surprised.

The Doctor nodded. "You had a room in the hospital together."

"Right," she said as they walked out of the fish-and-chip-shop. "Wait—together?"

"You did better if one of us was there when you woke up. As your 'family physician,' I convinced the hospital staff you needed to stay near your 'cousin,'" the Doctor said with a smile. He seemed quite pleased with himself.

"Clever," Rose said. "How'd you manage that?"

"It's pretty easy when you're already called 'Doctor,' " he said. "Jack and I both have psychic paper, so I used them to validate our identities. Jack played along, insisting he was named after your mother, his favorite aunt."

"Mum must have loved that," she said with a laugh.

"She wasn't happy," admitted the Doctor. "But when she realized that Jack's flirting with the entire hospital staff helped you get better care, she warmed up to the idea. We even managed to overemphasize the seriousness of his break to keep him there longer."

"You two did all that for me?" Rose asked, flattered at the thought.

"Of course!" the Doctor answered. "You're worth it."

Rose responded with a shy smile. And in that moment, she realized she was not in a hurry to get back to the Powell Estate. In her mind, she had not seen London in quite a while, and it was a lovely October Day. The trees that lined the street were a beautiful russet and copper, and there were very few clouds in the sky. She may have been close to home, but she wanted to spend the day with the Doctor and explore her surroundings as if it were just another adventure.

"How long until Jack gets to my mum's?" she asked, hoping they would have at least a little time before she was obliged to go back.

"About three hours," said the Doctor.

"Okay," she said evenly, trying to hide her giddiness. The Doctor was staring at her, and she feared that she would not be able to maintain her nonchalant façade.

"And you're not going to ask why," he said, crossing his arms and looking at her suspiciously.

"Would it do me any good?" she asked. She was melting under his gaze.

"No," he said.

"Then why bother?" she said. She realized that her tongue-in-teeth smile was coy, but she didn't care. And when the Doctor raised an eyebrow and smiled back, she almost forgot how to breathe.

Speaking as casually as possible, she continued. "Seems to me, that since I was at my mum's yesterday, there's no real hurry to see her." She took a step closer to the Doctor and tilted her head to the side. "And it's such a lovely day; it seems a shame to waste it indoors. If we have three hours until Jack arrives, we should...I don't know...spend it finding somewhere interesting to go." She shrugged her shoulders then waited for his response.

The Doctor stepped closer to Rose, so that there was little space between them, and looked down at her. "Rose Tyler," he said. "You never change."

"And that's good, yeah?" she asked.

The Doctor held out his hand, and she took it, intertwining her fingers with his.

"Yeah."


	5. Chapter 5

**The Way We Were – Chapter 5**

Rose held the Doctor's hand and started walking down the street in an arbitrary direction. "Okay, Doctor," she said, "say it like you always do."

"Say what?" asked the Doctor with a confused look on his face.

"You know—where we are and when we are."

"But you know where we are," said the Doctor. "You can still see the estate over there in the distance."

"Still, I like the way you'd introduce things when we'd first arrive somewhere," said Rose. "I know it's a bit mad since my last day on the Tardis seems like yesterday, but somehow just knowing how long it's really been has made me miss it." As they continued walking, she looked at the trees with their autumn leaves. "Besides, other than October, I am a bit foggy on the 'when.'"

The Doctor smiled, but Rose noticed the smile didn't reach his eyes. Rose realized that the Doctor actually remembered eighteen months of being stuck in Peckham, London, and she hated that fact. She hated being the reason that the Doctor's wings had been clipped.

"I'm sorry," Rose said. "I didn't even think…"

"It's okay," the Doctor said. He stopped walking and gazed at her for what seemed like an eternity. Rose felt her face flush at the attention. Then, as if breaking himself out of a trance, he straightened up and grinned from ear to ear. "Rose Tyler," he said, "welcome to London, October the fourth, 2008."

"Two thousand and _eight_?" said Rose as her jaw dropped. "Last time we were in Britain it was two thousand and six!"

The Doctor nodded. "Cardiff in September," he said. "I tried to get you here a month after that, but the Tardis was so damaged by the accident that the closest I could manage was over six months later: the twenty fourth of March, 2007."

Rose didn't know how to respond. At first she was upset that her timeline had skipped ahead again, but she was a seasoned time traveler now and knew that it would do no good to obsess over the linear illusion of time that humans clung to. Trying to settle temporal accounts between time spent traveling and elapse time on one's home world was full of complications and more or less futile. Still, she was curious about what had happened in her little corner of the galaxy for the two years that she had either skipped over or couldn't remember.

"So are you allowed to tell me about world history on a Rewind Day?" she asked the Doctor. She spotted a park across the street and, still holding the Doctor's hand, began to head in that direction.

"History is fine," he said. "As long as you weren't part of the events, your brain accepts them as truth."

"So what did I miss?"

"In 2007, not much. You got a new Prime Minister," said the Doctor "Oh! And _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_ was released. Fastest selling book to date."

"I'm glad you already had the complete set in the Tardis library so I was able to read them all ahead of time." Rose let go of the Doctor's hand and sat down on a bench along the park's edge. The Doctor sat down beside her. "I would hate to have read it and not remember on days like this."

"Then it's good I had all the films available on the Tardis too; the last film isn't due out for three more years," said the Doctor. "That reminds me: earlier this year Blu-ray won the high-definition video format wars." The Doctor shrugged. "Of course, in twenty years purely digital formats will make Blu-ray obsolete."

"That's the most important event of 2008?" Rose asked with a small laugh. "There wasn't anything more noteworthy?" She was beginning to feel drowsy, so she leaned her head against the Doctor's shoulder. The smell of the leather evoked in her a sense of peace and security, so as her arm fell over his and their hands touched, it seemed natural to take his hand and nestle in closer. She was so tired that it barely registered that the Doctor did not react to this invasion of his personal space. He simply answered her question by telling her that Kosovo had declared independence from Serbia. He went on to tell her about the Bejing Olympics and the medals that Great Britain had won. What he said beyond that, Rose did not know. The steady rhythm of his voice had put her to sleep.

* * *

_The Tardis flew in an erratic manner that reminded Rose of turbulence on an aeroplane. It then landed with a giant thud that nearly knocked her off her feet. Rose ran to the double doors and opened them hoping that she and Jack had landed close enough to find the Doctor. When she did, the sight was exactly like the sketch of the Doctor that Clive the conspiracy theorist had shown her. He was standing on the beach in front of the smoking volcano; a modest hut-like house stood off to his right. The only difference between this real-life image and the drawing she remembered was the inclusion of the artist. Fifteen feet in front of the Tardis, a man who appeared to be in his thirties with wavy brown hair rose from the boulder he had been sitting on. He gripped his paper and small wooden box of sketching tools as if they were a security blanket and turned to face the source of the whirring noise. He stared in shocked silence at the blue box in front of him._

_As soon as the Doctor saw the Tardis, he grinned and started walking toward it._

"_Well enough mucking about, Henri," he said, slapping the terrified artist on the back. "That's our ride."_

_The Doctor, Rose, and Jack had met Henri Joubert two days before. He was a French naturalist and artist who had an interest in remote locations. Even when the earthquakes had motivated others to evacuate the island, Henri had decided to stay and sketch the events as they unfolded. He had been on Krakatoa for six weeks when the Tardis had crash landed, leaving its passengers unaware of their location. Henri had thought himself alone on the island until he saw the trio exploring in the distance. He sketched a silhouette of the Doctor and Rose just as the Doctor had realized where they were and was pointing to the smoking volcano as evidence. The three of them eventually made their way to the beach and Henri invited them to share an evening meal with them. After they ate, he drew a portrait of all three of them, arm in arm, with giant grins on their faces. To Rose it embodied everything that traveling in the Tardis meant to her. There was danger in the background, but there was also fun and friendship. Maybe it was daft, but Rose could not imagine life being any better._

_The Doctor had told Henri that their ship was docked on the other side of the island, and Henri insisted they lodge with him rather than trek through the jungle at night. In the morning, they were obligated to return to the Tardis and determine what had caused the unexpected landing, but they thanked him for his hospitality and insisted he sail away at once. He made no promises, but gave them the portraits he had sketched the night before._

_A day and a half later, Henri was frozen in place, not being able to comprehend the box that had just dropped out of the sky. Rose wondered what he would have thought if it had materialized in front of him the way it usually did. In the background, the angry mountain increased its rumbling. _

"_That's our ship," the Doctor said earnestly. "We need to go. Now!"_

"_Your ship, it's not a sailing vessel," said Henri with a thick French accent as he gaped in amazement. _

"_Nope. Flies." The Doctor said. "Let's go."_

"_Such an interesting design for a basket! How is it light enough to become airborne?" Henri asked. "And you seem to be missing the balloon."_

"_The volcano's about to erupt," said the Doctor. "I'd rather discuss it inside." _

_Just then, a loud boom from the mountain behind them finally motivated Henri to enter the curious vessel._

"_Henri!" Jack exclaimed as he greeted him with a hug. "You're quite the thrill seeker—waiting until the last possible moment before evacuating!" He flashed the man a smile and a wink. "That's my kind of man."_

"_Not really the time and place," the Doctor said to Jack as he followed Henri into the Tardis._

_Filled with the joy and relief that the Doctor was safe inside (and somewhat influenced by Jack's greeting to Henri), Rose rushed to meet him with a bear hug. The Doctor returned the hug, lifting her slightly off her feet in the process. _

"_You're alright," Rose said relieved. Her feet had touched the ground but she didn't break away from the embrace._

"_Of course I'm alright," the Doctor said, grinning at her, "but how'd you get the Tardis here?" _

"_Emergency program seven," answered Rose, returning his smile with one of her own._

"_Clever girl," said the Doctor. His eyes were locked on hers, and Rose realized how very close their faces were to each other. _

"_You're the clever one," she said blushing. "I'm just good at following directions."_

"_Only sometimes," the Doctor said in a low voice. His gaze was steady, and his face was mere inches from her own._

"_True," Rose said, feeling quite dazed. She was mesmerized by the strange rhythm of three hearts beating rapidly, and it beckoned her to close the remaining distance between them. She closed her eyes… _

"_Well!" said Jack in a bright voice that woke Rose and the Doctor from their spell and caused them to jump apart from each other, "as much I would love to watch you two take your 'we're not a couple' relationship to the next level—and trust me, I'd buy tickets—I think you said it best, Doctor. This is not really the time or place."_

_Rose's face burned in embarrassment. And though she avoided his eye contact, she saw the Doctor glare in Jack's direction._

_Jack continued, "We have on board a confused Frenchman who is probably wondering how it is that our ship is bigger on the inside, and—"_

"My_ ship," corrected the Doctor._

"_At ease, Romeo," said Jack. "Your ship—your Rose. I know. You made that perfectly clear on day one." (Rose wished she could dematerialize just like the ship she was being categorized with.) "But as I was saying, the Tardis and its passengers are in danger if we do not move now. Don't forget, we don't have the benefit of time travel at the moment."_

"_Right," said the Doctor brightly as if the last thirty seconds had not been extremely awkward. "Henri Joubert, welcome to the Tardis. I'd hold on if I were you; this flight is going to be a bit rough."_

* * *

Rose woke to the sounds of laughing children and barking dogs. The Doctor's arm was around her shoulders and not at his side as it had been when she had fallen asleep, and his head was leaning on the top of hers. It was a caring gesture, and she might not have given it a second thought if weren't for the fact that the events of her dream were still fresh in her mind. Despite what the Doctor had told her at lunch, these dreams had to be parts of a memory. They were too detailed and well formed to be the product of her unconscious imagination. In fact, they seemed more vivid than any other memory she had. It was as if she was living them for the first time as the dream unfolded.

Unfortunately, the memories also brought to the forefront of her mind thoughts and feelings she had tried hard to repress. She dismissed them again, because that is what she had always done. It was easier to not question their relationship and just get on with it—whatever it was. But sometimes she couldn't help but entertain her feelings and wonder about his. She had told Mickey (who had technically been her boyfriend at the time) that that the Doctor wasn't her boyfriend. But in the same breath she admitted he was better than that. When her father from the past assumed they were a couple, she denied it, though their row had certainly felt like a lover's quarrel. And she couldn't deny how she felt when they danced after that day when everyone lived. Nor could she ignore the fact that the Doctor did not want Jack to cut in. And of course there was the planet of Woman Wept. Hadn't it been pretty clear, then, how they felt about each other?

Then again, did it even matter? He was the Doctor and it was different. That is what Rose always told herself. That's what she _had_ to tell herself, because nothing ever changed—not much anyway. Still, this new memory in her mind made her question the status quo. Was it possible that things would have changed if they hadn't been in imminent danger? The Doctor had said that a lot could happen in eighteen months. Did the lack of danger mean that instead—

The portion of Rose's mind responsible for emotional self-defense forbade her thoughts to continue. It was for the better anyway. Pondering them would only make it uncomfortable for her to interact with the Doctor. And the thing she treasured most about her relationship with the Doctor was, that for all their faults and unspoken words, they were entirely comfortable in each other's company.

With this last thought in her mind, she opened her eyes and stretched in a way that let the Doctor know she was awake.

"Awake now?" he said, sitting up and shifting to remove his arm from around Rose. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah," she said. "Not that I had a plan to sleep. Who besides little children does that—just eats lunch and decides to have a nap?"

"If you're talking humans, then a lot of you do. The entire country of Spain, and many other Latin countries, for example."

"Yes, but not me," Rose said with a frown. "How long did I sleep?"

"Half hour."

"That's not too bad then," she said. "I was just completely knackered for some reason, though I really haven't done a thing all day." Rose thought about asking the Doctor if this was cause for concern, but she knew he had already answered that question: She was fine—no _fantastic_—and the other maladies affecting her were "sort of" related to the accident, but nothing to be concerned about. Rose thought about the Doctor's conversation with Jack at lunch. Jack didn't seem beholden to the Rewind Day rules. Maybe it wouldn't be much longer till she had some answers to her questions.

* * *

**Author's Notes: ****For those who are wondering about how this timeline relates to the canon timeline, the Tardis' overshot would re-write some major happenings on Earth, which is why the Doctor might not have mentioned them.**

** Since the Doctor and Rose were not there on Christmas 2006 (and the Doctor had not regenerated) there would be no pilot fish feeding off regeneration energy. It is possible this would have kept the Sycorax from coming at all. But if they did still come, Torchwood would have shot it down and everything else would have continued as it had. **

**The Battle of Canary Wharf in June 2007 might not have happened at all because the Doctor would have been around when the Ghost Shifts started and put an end to them much sooner. Or perhaps since things would have been different in Pete's world without the Doctor and Rose showing up, the Cybermen might have taken over the world in that universe and never considered parallel universes. As for the Daleks, I think they just piggybacked on the mistake of Torchwood.**


	6. Chapter 6

The Way We Were – Chapter 6

Rose and the Doctor strolled leisurely through the grounds of St. Mark's church in Kennington, London, which was located a few miles from the Powell Estate. She marveled that the usually empty grounds and cemetery had been transformed into a thriving farmer's market. Large trees with leaves in golden and red hues stretched out over the many canopies, under which the merchants sold produce and other items. The smell of sausages on the barbeque wafted over the crowd, and Rose could hear the sounds of laughter and happy chatter all around her. There were several stalls selling fresh fruits and vegetables while others offered organic bread, gourmet cheeses, various cakes and sweets, and ready to eat items such as sausages and crepes. Rose also noticed a café offering tea and coffee. But what Rose loved best was that there were arts and crafts stalls among the vast array of food choices. Handmade bags, clothing, and jewelry were for sale along with paintings and other artwork.

The Doctor bought them both crepes (Rose chose one with fresh strawberries and dark chocolate, while the Doctor preferred the crepe that contained Nutella and bananas), and they enjoyed their snack as they walked along a row of stalls, browsing the merchants' wares.

"Thank you for bringing me here," Rose as said as she admired the potted plants offered at one of the stalls. "I didn't even know that Kennington had a farmer's market."

"On Rewind Day, you wouldn't," the Doctor said. "The Oval Farmers' Market has only been open a year."

"How'd you find out about it?" Rose took a bite of her crepe as they continued on to a table full of apples.

"Your mother saw an advertisement, and the two of you went shortly after it opened," he said. "Became one of your favourite shopping excursions."

"That makes it a good place to jog my memory, right?" She surveyed her surroundings again, but nothing seemed familiar.

"Any memory jogging is a bonus," the Doctor told her. He stopped at a dustbin and tossed in the empty wrapper from his crepe. "We're here because I thought you'd enjoy it."

Rose finished the last bite of her crepe then deposited her wrapper in the bin as well. "So do we come here a lot?" Rose had been to marketplaces all over the universe with the Doctor, but making repeat trips to the same market didn't sound like something the Doctor would do.

"_You_ come here often," the Doctor said. "This is only my second time."

Rose glanced over at a sign that informed visitors that the market was open every Saturday from ten to three. "Is that because you always work on Saturday," she asked, "or because you'd rather do something else?"

"I don't always work on Saturday," the Doctor replied, letting Rose draw her own conclusion.

"So then you _do_ avoid coming here," Rose said. "I knew it!" Rose wasn't sure why, but she was glad that the Doctor hadn't gone completely domestic.

"It never changes!" the Doctor said defensively. "Besides, it's you and your mother's thing." He waved a hand dismissively as he spoke.

"Aha," said Rose as she pointed a finger at the Doctor. "You're still afraid of her."

"Am not," protested the Doctor. "She's…" The Doctor cleared his throat. "…lovely. It's just best if I limit my time with her."

"Right," said Rose, unconvinced. Rose had seen the mere mention of Jackie Tyler cause the Doctor to become nervous. And he always found something incredibly pressing to do whenever Rose called her mother from the Tardis—usually something that required his attention in another room. Rose wondered if this was part of the reason the Doctor agreed so readily to delay their visit to her mum.

"Well, come on then," she said, pulling the Doctor back to the row of vendors. "It's just me today. Let's see the rest of this place."

After a few minutes, Rose stopped at a stall that was selling handmade linen scarves. She reached for one that caught her eye. It was the same deep blue as the Tardis with thin white stripes that ran both horizontally and vertically, creating large squares that reminded her of the panels on the Tardis. The attached tag said that it cost fifty pounds. Rose had plenty of scarves and could get one for much less at most shops, but she wanted this one nonetheless. She reached in her pocket for her money and realized she wasn't carrying any. This had been normal when she had been traversing time and space; the Doctor always managed to obtain the things they needed or wanted. Sometimes he bartered items or offered assistance in exchange for goods. Other times he used the psychic paper or manipulated a cashpoint with the sonic screwdriver, but those times were rare and were somewhat justified when they ended up saving several lives or the entire planet. But on a calm October day in Kennington (and with nothing to barter), that was not going to work. After eighteen months, Rose must have begun the habit of carrying her driving license and cash again. Rose wished she had asked the Doctor if she had a handbag containing these items; it would have been nice to have them now.

Rose put the scarf down and turned to leave. Without a word, the Doctor pulled out a fifty pound note and handed it to the lady on the other side of the table. Then he took the scarf off the table and draped it over Rose's neck. Rose was too overwhelmed to speak. The Doctor had already bought lunch and the crepes. Was he paying because she forgot her own money, or did she not have any? She hoped she had a way of earning money somehow. She hated the idea that she might be dependent on him or her mother simply because she had an occasional memory relapse. Rose wrapped the scarf around her neck. Whatever the reason, it was kind of the Doctor to buy it for her, and she appreciated it.

"Thank you," she said.

The Doctor nodded. "It suits you." There was the hint of a smile on his face, but his eyes were sad. It hurt Rose to see him that way, especially since she was certain she was the cause of it.

Rose was searching for something more to say when she felt a young child grab onto her leg. "_Mamá_," the child said happily.

"No love," Rose said to the little blond boy clinging to her leg. "I'm not your mum."

The little boy looked up at the strange voice and tears formed in his eyes. "_Yo quiero a mi mamá."_

Rose bent down to the child's level and gave him a hug. She had to help him find his mother. _"Como te llamas?"_ she said, asking for his name.

"_Alejandro,"_ the boy said with a sniff.

"_Hola, Alejandro,"_ she said. _"Me llamo Rose."_

"_Rose,"_ Alejandro said with a sniff. _"No puedo encontar a mi mamá."_

Rose didn't understand and felt bad that she could not properly help the child. A split second later, Rose's mouth fell open in realization over what had just transpired. Alejandro had been speaking Spanish, and she heard it as such. She was used to the Tardis translating all conversations into English for her, but for some reason, the translation circuit of the Tardis was not working. What was stranger was that she had actually begun a basic conversation with the child. As far as Rose could remember, she had never learned a word in Spanish. As Rose pondered these facts, the Doctor took over the conversation in what sounded like fluent Spanish. He found Alejandro's mother just a few stalls down then returned to Rose's side.

"I heard him speaking Spanish." she told the Doctor, still astounded. "What just happened?"

"They're on holiday from Madrid," he said. "Alejandro got distracted at the Cake Lady's stall, but his mother didn't notice and walked on."

"No," said Rose. "I mean, the Tardis didn't translate for me, but I seem to know some Spanish." She paused as she recalled the sequence of events. "Why do _you_ know Spanish?"

"I know all languages," the Doctor said. "And you decided to learn Spanish some months ago because of a new neighbour you wanted to befriend. Haven't gotten too far with it though."

"But if I don't remember learning it, how can I speak it?"

"It's called procedural memory," he told her. "You can perform the skills you learned. You just can't remember learning them."

Rose was amazed and wondered if she had learned other skills since the accident. However, the Tardis was a more pressing matter, "What about the Tardis, though?" she asked. "Why isn't it translating?"

The Doctor took in a deep breath then exhaled it. "I think it would be best to wait and discuss that when Jack is present. He should be at your mother's flat soon. I think it's time we go."

* * *

"Oh there you are, sweetheart," Jackie Tyler gushed as Rose came through the door of her mother's flat. She enveloped Rose in a hug and did not let go as she continued to speak rapidly. "How are you doing, poor thing? I knew it was a bad idea: you being two storeys down. Waking up not knowing where you are. You should have come over right away!" She let go of Rose—who squeezed past her in the narrow foyer—and turned her attention to the Doctor. "And, _you_, keeping her out all day the way that she is! You made a promise to look after her! What business do you have dragging her all over the whole bleedin' city?"

"It was her idea!" the Doctor protested.

"It was, Mum," Rose said from behind her.

Jackie looked briefly at her daughter then focused back on the Doctor. "Well it doesn't matter. _You_ should know better. What if she ran into someone who didn't know what was going on and told her things out of order? What if she got lost?"

"I still know my way around," Rose said, but she was ignored.

"If she has a bad day tomorrow, I'm blaming you." She pointed an accusatory finger at the Doctor, who backed up as if it were a weapon. Then she switched to the same nurturing tone she had used on Rose. "But, poor dear. It must've been hard havin' to go explain it all over again after all these months. Not after our Rose has come so far..." Jackie grabbed the Doctor's face with both hands and planted a kiss on his lips, which the Doctor promptly wiped off with the back of his hand. Then—as if she hadn't just been speaking to them—she noticed the Doctor and Rose standing on either side of her, speechless. "What are you two doing still standing around in the foyer? Go sit down. I'll get you a cuppa."

"She's unstable, that woman," the Doctor said under his breath after Jackie had entered the kitchen.

Rose overheard him and smirked. "Well at least she didn't slap you."

Right as they started to leave the foyer, there was a knock at the door. Rose answered it and encountered the smiling face of Captain Jack Harkness.

"Jack!" she said as she greeted him with a quick hug. "It's good to see you!" She let him in a closed the door.

"It's good to see you too," he said. "It's been a while."

"Has it?" Rose asked.

"Yeah, I missed a couple of Rewind Days. Torchwood keeps me pretty busy these days. So the last visit must've been during the Late May Bank Holiday."

"What's Torchwood?" asked Rose.

Jack looked over Rose's shoulder to the Doctor. "You haven't told her about Torchwood yet?"

"I was getting around to it," the Doctor said. "Thought I'd let you do that."

"Which means you probably haven't mentioned U.N.I.T. either," Jack said.

"Nope."

"What about Cardiff?" Jack asked.

The Doctor shook his head.

"What _about_ Cardiff?" interrupted Rose looking between Jack and the Doctor.

"That's where I live now," Jack told her.

"Voluntarily?"

Jack laughed. "Not at first," he said, "but we can explain that later. Let's go back to 'It's good to see you.' " Jack gave Rose another hug then held her at arm's length while he looked at her. "I don't know how you're feeling," he told her, "but you look great!"

"Thanks," said Rose, blushing. " 'Course you say that to all the girls. And blokes. And whatever else, so..." Rose shrugged.

"I'm just telling you what I see," Jack said. "And you really do look great. I'd even say there's a glow about you."

"That's enough," said the Doctor. Rose wasn't facing him, but she could tell he wasn't happy.

"I was just—"

"I know what you were 'just' doing, and I said '_That's enough_.' "

"Fine," Jack said evenly. "But things are different now. The rules have to change."

"Maybe," said the Doctor. "But you're being irresponsible about it."

Rose stood in the middle as the men stared each other down.

"Hello," she said in a tone that she hoped sounded bright. "Remember me? Rose? Maybe I should have a say in all this." She looked at the Doctor and then to Jack. "Let's sit down. We can have some tea, and you can tell me whatever you normally would on a Rewind Day. After that we can decide about anything more, okay?"

The three of them walked into the living room. Rose and the Doctor sat on the sofa while Jack took one of the other chairs.

Jackie entered moments later with tea and biscuits. "I thought I heard another voice," she said, "so I got an extra cup." She looked toward Rose and the Doctor while she set down her tray, then addressed Jack. "It would have been nice if one of them had let me know you were coming."

"Oh don't blame them, 'Aunt Jackie' " said Jack. "I thought you'd like a surprise visit from your favorite nephew."

"I'm glad to see you, Jack, I am," said Jackie as she sat and joined the others. "But you keep going on like that and you're going to get a smack."

"I'd listen," said Rose with a laugh. "She means it."

"Oh, I know," Jack said. "I've heard the story."

Everyone enjoyed their tea in silence for a few minutes until Rose found it awkward. "So what happens now?" she asked.

"We get to look at pictures," said Jackie. "Isn't that nice, Rose?"

"Why are you talking to me like I'm five?" asked Rose. Anger began to rise in her. "Why do people keep worrying about me so much and think I need looking after?" She turned toward the Doctor. "You said other than not remembering on some days, I'm fine. I want the truth, Doctor. Is this true or is there something wrong with me?"

"You're fine," the Doctor assured her again. "But there's a lot you don't remember."

"Eighteen months' worth, yeah," she said to him. "But you lot are the ones who've forgotten. You've forgotten who I was _before_ the accident. You've forgotten the things we did—the things _I_ did!"

Rose looked over at her mother. She could feel the tears beginning to form and did her best to fight them back. "Mum, I love you. And I am glad you were there for me after the accident, but it's time for me to go now. This life of farmers' markets and eating chips, it's not my life. There's so much more out there."

"I know sweetheart—" started Jackie.

"No you don't," she said. "I'm sorry, really I am, but I don't need to stay here anymore. I can handle my amnesia wherever I am. I'd rather wake up a little confused on the Tardis with the Doctor and Jack than in some flat I don't recognise."

"Rose—" the Doctor said, trying to interject.

"Doctor, no. Listen to me," she said. Her eyes were blurred with tears. "Staying here day after day, this is not the life you're meant to have."

"It's fine Rose," insisted the Doctor.

"No, it's not." She gave up trying to control her tears, and they began to flow freely. "You're not happy—not fully. I can see it in your eyes. You feel trapped, and it's my fault. My fault that I was standing in the wrong place and got hit. But I can't have you stay any longer because of me. Either go with me, or go without me. But you need to go."

"Rose," Jack said calmly. "The Doctor didn't tell you very much today, did he?"

Rose sniffed. "No. Because of the Rewind Day rules that I apparently set."

"The Doctor and I disagree on those rules and whether or not they are actually helpful," he told her.

"Yeah, I gathered that when you were on the phone."

"Right. But we do agree in one area," he said. "And that is that you need to know what happened in the accident."

"I do," she said. Her hand went up to the scar automatically.

"No, not just to you," Jack said. "So many Rewind Days we've avoided telling you, but we can't do it anymore. The more time goes by, the more you push one or all of us to leave. It's not easy to hear, Rose, but you need to know the truth. You need to hear the real reason we are all still here. After that, we can talk about whatever you want to. But right now I need you to listen, okay?"

"Okay," she managed to say through her shuddering breath. She stilled herself to listen, and reached for the Doctor's hand. Whatever she was about to hear, she knew it would be easier to handle with him by her side.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Special thanks to** lindawho** and **YoungWhovianGirl** for helping me come up with the situation with Spanish-speaking Alejandro to help explain some plot issues in a way that kept the action going.

**And let me say that I am humbled and flattered by the amount of people following this story. It is knowing that you are waiting for the next installment with such excitement that has allowed this story to make it onto the page rather than in scribbled notes and distracted daydreams. Thank you so much for being my collective muse**.


	7. Chapter 7

The Way We Were – Chapter 7

"Fine time for somebody to come round," muttered Jackie as the buzz of the doorbell interrupted Jack's story in the first sentence. "I'll get it. You just carry on."

But since the front door was so close to the living room, nobody continued. Everyone sat in their positions as if they were on television and someone had pressed the pause button. Rose could feel her heart beating rapidly. This was the second time today that she had been prepped to hear devastating news only to have it interrupted. (She still wondered what pressing task had required the Doctor to briefly retreat to the bedroom before he told her about her injury.) She couldn't tell if this current delay was easier or more difficult than the first. She had jumped to conclusions while waiting and made herself sick as a result. This time—whether to keep the sickness at bay or to maintain some sort of hope—she tried not to dwell on her presuppositions and prayed that the visitor at the door would leave quickly so that the story could begin.

Rose recognized the voice at the door as soon as her mother opened it. Her stomach dropped the way it would during the steep descent of a roller coaster at a fun faire. It was Mickey Smith, and her last memory of him in Cardiff in 2006 did not end well.

Before the Doctor had come along, Mickey had been her boyfriend. It was a casual relationship that grew out of the convenience of a friendship. Like everything else in her life at the time, it was going nowhere. Then she met the Doctor, who offered her a chance to really live, and she left. When she arrived home after only a few days of travelling, Mickey had been waiting and watching for her for a year. But despite his devotion, she preferred her new life and left again.

When the Tardis landed for a stopover in Cardiff, Rose called and asked Mickey to bring her passport as an excuse to see him. She missed him because he was a tie to her past, but his presence among her new comrades highlighted the contrast between her old life and the new. So when Mickey said he had been seeing someone new, she yelled at him to hide the confusion she felt from being simultaneously relieved and jealous. She doubted if he was even telling the truth, but it didn't matter; she was the one who had run off with another bloke and left him waiting. Yet he still came running when she called. And though he was hurt, Mickey did not demand she leave the Doctor. He just asked that eventually she would return to stay. It was more than she deserved, but it was something Rose knew she could not promise. The right thing to do was to let him go and commit fully to the life she had already chosen. But before she could apologize and give him the proper goodbye he deserved, things blew up—literally, and Rose left Mickey behind while she ran toward the source of the crisis. When things had calmed, Mickey was gone. Rose knew he deserved better. They might have drifted apart naturally had the Doctor had never shown up, but her selfish treatment of him had cost her a dear friend.

Now he was standing at her mother's front door, chatting happily with Jackie and saying something about not coming to tea the next day. He was unaware of the silent, motionless trio he had interrupted. Rose turned around slightly in an attempt to glance behind her, but her back was to the front door. She got a glimpse of his dark skin and short cropped hair as he made his way into the kitchen holding a slow cooker that he was returning, but she was thankful that he had not seen her.

Moments later, Mickey followed Jackie from the kitchen and noticed the group gathered in the living room. "You didn't tell me you were having a party," he teased her. He strode into the room with a big smile.

"Been a while, mate," he said to Jack, who stood and hugged him with a big pat on the back. Mickey nodded to the Doctor with a pleasant "Hey," and the Doctor nodded back. Then he turned to Rose with a smile.

"How ya doin' Rose?" he said. "How's the—"

"Rewind Day," said a triad of voices around Rose simultaneously.

Instantly, Mickey's demeanor changed.

"Right then," he said abruptly. "Well, I've got things to do. I really better not stay..."

"Wait," Rose said as a wave of guilt and sadness came over her. "I need to talk to you." She squeezed the Doctor's hand a bit tighter. She wondered if it would be better if she let go while she apologized, but she did nothing about it.

"I really need to go," Mickey said. He paused and then added, "But we can talk tomorrow."

"Mickey, please!" she begged. The bad news to come would be much harder to handle if she was preoccupied with the unresolved guilt of that painful memory.

"I'm not doin' this," he said. He was looking at the Doctor, not Rose.

"Oh you're not, are you?" said the Doctor peering back at him.

"No, and you can't make me either."

"Watch me." The Doctor let go of Rose's hand so he could cross his arms across his chest in gesture of authority.

Mickey sighed. "You don't know what it's like havin' to go through this every time."

"Oh I don't?" challenged the Doctor. "That's rather funny, really."

"I just mean that she wakes up and remembers good things about you," Mickey said. "But for me, no matter what's happened since, all she remembers is Cardiff." He glanced over at Rose then looked back at the Doctor. "And it don't matter what I do. Tomorrow she'll wake up and remember everything. But next Rewind Day, I still have to do it all over again."

"This is why we don't ask you to be part of Rewind Days. It's easier on you and Rose," the Doctor said. "But if you stumble into one, you need to let her say her piece."

"Why?" said Mickey, almost shouting. "She's your obligation, not mine!"

Rose was already on edge, but Mickey's comment made her furious. "I'm not _anyone's _obligation!" she snapped at him.

The Doctor' glanced at Rose in concern, and took her hand again. "She's your friend," he said calmly. "And tomorrow she will wake up and know you weren't there for her. If that's your choice, fine, but you have to live with the consequences."

Mickey looked down toward the ground and his shoulders sagged. "It hurts," he mumbled.

Rose's anger turned to sympathy. The pain was her fault, after all. "Mickey. I'm sorry," she said. "We don't have to do this. You can go." Mickey had not looked up, so she looked at the top of his head as she spoke. "I'm sorry that whatever I normally say is so hurtful."

"It's not what you say, Rose," Mickey said, looking up. "It's just that remembering's not always a good thing." He paused and took a breath. "Go ahead."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

Mickey sat on the coffee table facing Rose and managed a weak smile. "I'm sure."

Through tears Rose told him that she had been rotten to him—that she had held on to him for the sake of nostalgia while he had been longsuffering and kind. She told him she was sorry for running off in the middle of their conversation, and that she should have been more honest with herself and with him from the beginning. Then she told him she was sorry, but that she understood if he never forgave her.

When she had finished, Mickey nodded and said,"Okay."

"Okay is all you can say?" she said astonished, as she wiped tears away with the edge of her sleeve.

Mickey shrugged. "It's just I've heard it all before. The first few times we cried an' hugged, but I can't do that every time."

"Guess not," she mumbled.

"Hey," he said with a small smile. "Everything's fine now. I even come round here Sundays for tea."

"You have tea with my mum?" Rose said. Her mouth dropped open slightly.

"So do you and himself there," said Mickey, indicating the Doctor with his chin.

Rose raised her eyebrows in astonishment. "I'm back to wonderin' if this is a dream, because all of us having Sunday dinner is a bit hard to believe."

"I invite Mr. Cardiff there too," interjected Jackie. "But he's too busy with his band of merry men to pay us normal people any mind."

"Who you calling normal?" said the Doctor, sounding offended.

Jack smiled. "Does that make me Robin Hood?"

"Well, you're not much more than vigilantes are you?" Jackie said. "Runnin' around in the dark all in black. It's like you all took your fashion cues from him," she said, pointing to the Doctor.

"What's wrong with how I dress?" asked the Doctor. "It's practical!"

"You look like you should be riding a motorbike in the sixties, for one," said Jackie.

"Or be the captain of a U-boat in World War Two," said Jack with a wink.

Rose smiled at Jack's inside joke then addressed Mickey again. "So we're really okay now?"

Mickey nodded.

"Is there anything new happening with you?" Rose asked, trying to get past the awkwardness.

"Not much," he said with a shrug. "I'm still working at the garage, but I'm a manager now. And, um, I..." He paused and looked at the Doctor as if asking permission to continue. "I've sort of got a girlfriend."

"Sort of?" Rose asked with a chuckle.

"Yeah, well, we just started goin' out a few weeks ago," he told her.

"Do I know her?" Rose asked.

"Yeah," Mickey said with slight hesitation. "It's Shareen."

Rose sat agape, trying to come up with a response. "Shareen Costello, my best mate?"

"That's the one, yeah." He smiled sheepishly.

"I thought you hated each other," she said with a laugh. She felt none of the jealousy she had experienced in Cardiff.

"Yeah, so did I." He shook his head and shrugged. "It just sort of happened."

"Then, good," she said. "I'm happy for you. Really."

Mickey grinned, and she smiled back. He looked at his watch. "I do have to go, though," he said. "See you soon?"

Rose nodded.

Mickey stood up and looked back over at Jack. "Jack-Flash," he said. "Come by more often."

"I will," Jack said.

"Bye," Mickey said to the occupants of the room. Then he waved and let himself out.

* * *

Roe took a deep breath, reached for the Doctor's hand, and looked at Jack. "Well, where were we?"

Jack also took a deep breath. He looked at the Doctor. "You sure you don't want to do this?" he asked.

"You'll do just fine," the Doctor said.

"Okay," said Jack. "But feel free to take over at anytime."

"Will you just get _on_ with it?" said Rose impatiently. "Stalling just makes it worse."

"Okay," said Jack. "Do you remember Southampton in 1912?"

Rose nodded.

"Well, after that we attempted to go to the planet Midnight for a little R and R, but we got thrown out of the Time Vortex and ended up stuck on an Earth island in 1883."

"Krakatoa," Rose said.

"Yes," said Jack. "So the Doctor told you this part already?"

"No," said Rose. "I remember."

"You remember Krakatoa?" said the Doctor turning a bit to face her. "But you've never remembered that before!"

"It came back in pieces today," she said.

"But, there's no way you can really remember that," the Doctor said with a furrowed brow.

"Why?" asked Rose. "It's not the memory of the actual accident."

"But it's the same day," the Doctor said. "The trauma to your brain would have prevented you from storing that information." The Doctor paused in thought. "Must be memories of the stories we told you on other Rewind Days."

"It can't be just a memory of the story," Rose said. "It was too vivid."

"Doctor," said Jack. "That day was a long one. We went over twenty-four hours without sleeping. Is it possible she could remember the first part of it?"

"I suppose so," said the Doctor frowning slightly. "But why is it only coming back now?" The Doctor sat a moment, then said, "Okay, go on."

"On the island," Jack continued, "the Doctor discovered that interference in the Vortex had caused disruptions to the time rotor. That in turn pulled the Tardis to a location that was absorbing time energy," Jack said.

"A reverse temporal rift," said the Doctor.

"What's that?" asked Rose.

"You know how the rift in Cardiff provides time energy that the Tardis can use as petrol?" the Doctor asked.

"Yeah," she said.

"A reverse temporal rift does the opposite. It attracts time-sensitive technology and drains it. That rift ran right through Krakatoa, causing a lot of geologic unrest."

"It also pulled the Tardis out of the Vortex since we were only a few decades off," Jack said. "We had to fly her manually off the island like a regular spaceship, and our attempts to dematerialize or travel in time kept failing. Eventually we found ourselves in the midst of a time storm."

"The worst chronometeorological event I've ever experienced," said the Doctor. "Time winds swirling like a tornado, and moving with just as much force."

"Since the Tardis was drained of energy, it couldn't handle the force of the winds that ripped through it." Jack said. "They started tearing apart the Tardis from the inside out. We tried to steer out of it, but we were trapped. Every now and then there was a momentary peace, and we would try to dematerialize, but the Tardis was running on so little power that we couldn't manage it in the few seconds we had."

"So we were stuck," said the Doctor. "And the longer we stayed in the storm, the more damage it caused. Navigation was thrown off. The dimensional stabilizer was in flux and—"

"The what?" asked Rose.

"The controls that make the bigger-on-the-inside technology possible," answered Jack.

Rose nodded in response.

"The dimensional stabilizer was in flux," repeated the Doctor. "It caused a conflict between the interior and exterior, which compromised the integrity of the Tardis."

"The coral struts starting buckling under the pressure," Jack said, "and they began to splinter. Then pieces started breaking off and falling. Those falling pieces damaged other controls, and all we could do was try to stay out of the way."

Rose's eyes filled with tears as she imagined her beloved Tardis—a place she had considered her home—breaking apart before her. She clasped the Doctor's hand tighter and leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Finally, there was a lull in the storm," Jack said. "The Doctor quickly set some coordinates and gave us each a task in piloting the Tardis out of the storm. We needed to get her to a calmer section of the Vortex so that we could let her rest. He had me checking for malfunctioning circuits, and he asked you—"

"I asked you to turn a wheel on the side of the console opposite the monitor," interrupted the Doctor. "And you did so without hesitation. But it caused the Tardis to jolt too quickly. Pieces of the Tardis fell everywhere." He didn't continue.

"That's when I was hit," Rose said.

"That's when you were hit," confirmed Jack. "I was hit too, and broke my arm. And the Doctor was surrounded by debris."

"I know this part," said Rose. She didn't want to hear it again.

"What you don't know is that it didn't have to happen," said the Doctor darkly. Rose could hear the self-directed fury rise in his voice the way it had when he had explained the accident earlier in the day. "After I had you settled in the hospital, I checked our navigational history on the monitor," he told her. "If I had waited one minute we would have been able to ride a calmer wind into the eye of the time storm. And that would have given the Tardis time to move without doing further damage."

"But you couldn't have known," said Rose in an attempt to comfort him.

"I suspected," he said. "But I knew navigation would be off in the eye. So I chose instead to act quickly while navigation was functioning. It almost killed you. And the Tardis—" The Doctors voice cracked.

"The Tardis was in bad shape," Jack said. "The Doctor couldn't even move it from its place on the pavement in front of the hospital for the two weeks I was there. A week later we managed to move it to a park a few miles away, but that was the last time it dematerialized and rematerialized. I flew it to Cardiff manually in the middle of the night and set it on top of the rift. We hoped it would help heal it."

"It's not healing," Rose concluded out loud.

"Worse," said the Doctor. "It—" The Doctor clenched his fists, including the hand that was holding Roses'. The pain made Rose gasp slightly, but the Doctor didn't notice. "It...She's..."

"The Tardis is dead," Jack said.

"But you can fix it," Rose said hopefully. She had to believe it could be fixed.

"We tried everything," Jack said. "For months one or both of us would travel to Cardiff and try to bring her back to life."

"There was one spark," the Doctor said. He stared straight ahead and his voice was empty. "I tried to revitalize it using my own life force. Used up ten years of my life. But it wasn't enough."

"I ended up staying with the Tardis and babysitting that spark, but it grew dimmer and eventually went out," Jack said. Rose had never heard his voice sound sadder.

"No," whispered Rose. She didn't believe it. She wouldn't. "You have to try again," cried Rose. "There has to be something you haven't tried!" But as she said it, she knew there was no hope. Jack and the Doctor would never give up unless they had tried everything.

"The Tardis was alive, Rose," said the Doctor. "You saw that when Blon looked into the heart of the Tardis. We could fix her up and make her look brand new, but if there is no life in her, then she is just a useless box."

"We're stuck," she said as the tears began to fall. "All of us." Her tears turned to uncontrollable sobs. She turned her face to cry into the Doctor's soft jumper, gripping the edges of his leather jacket as if it were a life preserver. She felt guilty for doing so. She should be comforting her friends, rather than seeking comfort. Jack was human, but he had been raised on an Earth-colony planet in the fifty-first century. The Doctor was a Time Lord who never stayed long in one time or place. She was a human earthling in her own time who had no right to expect more than living a life day after day in the same place. It shouldn't be traumatic for her to go back to it. But it was. So she accepted the solace of the Doctor's embrace, and she gave herself over to her convulsive tears.

Rose remained in his arms after her tears had mostly subsided and her breathing had returned to normal. She didn't know what to say or do next. What did they all do with their life now? She guessed from the earlier conversation with Jack that the Doctor worked for U.N.I.T., which made sense. Mickey had once said that the Doctor had worked for the organization in the past, and their purpose was to investigate and fight alien threats on Earth. If the Doctor was stuck on earth in the twenty-first century, it was the most fitting place for him to spend his time. Jack worked for something called Torchwood. From her mother's description, it sounded similar to U.N.I.T., but perhaps more secretive. But Rose wondered what _she_ did with her life. Did she work for U.N.I.T. too? She hoped she had found something worthwhile to do with her time. She could not go back to a life of working in a dress shop.

"My head hurts," Rose finally mumbled. She let go of the Doctor and sat up, but she leaned her head on his shoulder.

"That's from all the crying," Jackie said tenderly. "Why don't you have a lie down for a bit while I make something for us to eat?"

"I was thinking of Chinese, actually," Rose said, remembering the Doctor's phone conversation with Jack. She knew they would prefer take-away to anything her mother would be cooking.

"Okay, sweetheart," Jackie said. "We can order Chinese. You go rest in your room."

Jackie pulled Rose to standing and, with an arm around her shoulders, walked her to her childhood bedroom. Other than the fact that it was clean and missing her favorite teddy bear (which was in her flat downstairs), Rose's room looked just as she had remembered it. She found comfort in this fact, and as soon as her mother had closed the door, she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

"_So where do you live, Henri Joubert?" asked the Doctor. "Paris? Toulouse? Strasbourg?"_

"_Calais," answered Henri._

"_On the coast. Nice!" said Jack."I grew up by the seaside myself."_

"_And it's not too far from where I grew up," said Rose. "Just across the Chunnel and inland a bit."_

"_Chunnel?" Henri asked, repeating, Rose's word. "Do you perhaps mean 'channel?' "_

"_Yes, right," said Rose realizing her anachronistic statement. The Channel Tunnel from Calais to Kent only started operating when she was a child._

"_Then home to Calais," said the Doctor to Henri. "Controls aren't working as they should, so it will take some time. Still, we should be able to manage it in about an hour."_

"_An hour?" said Henri, astounded. "A trip of such great distance should take days, even by balloon." _

"_Yes, but this is so much better than a balloon," said the Doctor with a smile. "Even when it's in need of repairs."_

_The Doctor moved around the console, flipping switches and turning dials. Then he peered at his monitor. He sighed heavily and hit his fist on the console's edge. "It's not going to work," he grumbled. "We need to land."_

_Jack looked over the Doctor's shoulder at the screen. "Sumatra. That's not far from Krakatoa at all. But at least it appears we can land outside the range of the tsunami."_

"_Rose, Henri," said the Doctor. "Hold on. This landing is going to be rough."_

_Seconds later, the four survivors of Krakatoa stood on the high ground of a beach in Sumatra and watched as a tsunami surged onto the shore. _

"_That's enough adventure for one lifetime," said Henri as he surveyed the devastation. _

"_But there's so much more to see!" said Jack, disappointed at their new friend's declaration. But Rose already knew that not everyone was fit for life aboard the Tardis._

"_That may very well be, my friend," but I have seen enough. "I think I shall look for passage home in a normal ship and publish an account of my experiences on the island."_

"_That sounds like a good plan," said Rose. "I look forward to reading it." _

_The Doctor walked into the Tardis and emerged a moment later with Henri's most recent drawing. "We already have two," he said. "Keep this one for your memoirs."_

"_I will," Henri said. He looked at the Tardis exterior again in wonder. "So you will fly away in your box now?"_

"_Yes," said the Doctor. _

"_It has been a pleasure to know you all," Henri said. He hugged everyone, finishing with the Doctor. As he did, a gust of wind caught the paper in his hand and floated it over to the still-angry torrents on the shore._

"_Oh, Henri!" gasped Rose. "Your drawing!"_

"_It's okay, __Mademoiselle__," Henri said. "You are all safe in my memories. I wish you a safe journey."_

"_Thank you," said Rose. She gave the artist one last hug, then followed her friends into the Tardis._


End file.
